If I Could
by London Bai
Summary: Dearest Williams find her talent and troupe needed in Europe. With the memory of her past haunting her, the present will become an actual Ghost. Both seek the dark mortal while another plot twists as a shady villain makes himself known. First ever Sarah/Erik pairing, but will be a Sarah/Jareth pairing late on. Reasons will be revealed within the story.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Book/Movie do not belong to me**

**Some of you might be angry that I'm starting yet another story without finishing the others, but I had to put this one down. It's perfect!**

**With that said, enjoy.  
AN: Song is "Into the West" by Annie Lennox**

* * *

It wasn't long before the reality of the situation crept into my mind. I am, indeed, on a tour in Europe. My acting and writing abilities, combined, enabled my own play to be performed wherever there was a stage. I am happy for the first time in my life.

I watch the mountainous terrain of the upper side of the clouds pass me by as I think about my reasons for being so foreboding. I've been claimed and I don't like it one bit. Magic or not, my life was interrupted by the fact that my little run was more than a dream. I've been tainted and I've yet to find a way out of the mess I placed myself in.

I have learned to accept my fate a few years ago, but so much time had been wasted trying to hide from it. I was glad my play had been well-praised so quickly. The attention it was getting was making up for my lost time. First stop that I'm coming from is Ireland and Britain. Both countries were perfect hosts what with the perfect season of autumn and generous people aiding me during my stay. I watch a flock of geese far below the plane's wings as my heart flutters at the idea of the next stop: Paris.

Thankfully, I haven't heard from or seen anyone from the other dimension, but that didn't mean they couldn't see me. I shrugged that feeling of being watched as the plane begins to land. The rush of the plane grew more obvious the closer we got to the ground. It was a bit nerve-wreaking to see such a speed of unreliable modern-day man-made machines. A very tiny, almost unnoticeable grin upturned the corners of my lips. Magic is more reliable than machines, if one knew how to use it properly. The king that I had the horror of meeting (in my personal opinion) doesn't know how to wield his magic.

I was so lost in thought that the next thing I knew, I'm already settled into the hotel near the next stage for set-up. The excitement of the French fans and the rush that the bodyguards urged pushed me from point A to B in a the time span of a blink. The time jump happened again when I had to leave the hotel after refreshing myself to meet with the stage owners and my cast and crew. In fact, the only moment of peace I've had was when I was left to my own devices after giving orders to the play's crew and pointers to the cast.

The owners had to leave me alone to catch up on a terrible pile of bills. I'd expect that from the owners of a newly refurbished former opera house. The cost must have been astounding to fix the skeletal structure and wire the building into the modern century. I shivered at the thought of the horrendous cost of bills as I walk along the empty extensive hallways of the theater. The strong scent of new paint and wood made my head spin as the dim lighting of the halls befuddled me on my direction. I realize that I was so deep into the building that I didn't know from which direction I came.

Gathering my cool, I told myself that if I could solve a magical Labyrinth, I could get out of these halls. I look down one end of the hall ending in darkness then to the other side to see a mirror image of said darkness. I sigh and take my steps into the first side. It is so quiet, though. My heart beat irregularly against my chest while the hairs stand up at the back of my neck. I'm being watched. Defiantly, I lift my head and begin to sing, hoping that the feeling would soon pass.

"Lay down... your sweet and weary head." My voice echos off of the quiet walls. "Night is falling. You've come to journey's end." There was a chorus of my own voice joining me, even harmonizing it seemed for a moment. My fingers trail along the faux gold filigree that decorate the hall. "Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling... from across the distant shore."

The being-watched feeling ebbs away, but it's still there, though the very presence of it isn't the dark, cold, powerful one I was used to. With a slow glancing spin, I take notice of the hall yet see nothing or no one. I set my face from wonder to not-caring. I wasn't a possession to be studied or gawked at.

"Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?" I continue singing. It seemed that every note melted the hair-standing feeling. "Soon you will see... all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping." The new presence suddenly felt warmer and kinder as if the listener is actually paying attention to my words. "What can you see... on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call?" I give a wide smile then, quietly glad of the audience. "Across the sea... a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home."

I begin to think about my steps again. For a moment, it felt like my younger years on the stage. A performance strong enough to bring tears to man's eyes. I feel that power again. "And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water. All souls pass." The feeling suddenly left once I stepped into the bright light of the grand foyer. I made it out as I knew I would. I always make it out of whatever situation I'm in. I just need time to think.

The listener, though, disappeared once I reached the open eye of the morning public making its way for a final performance of the theater troupe before mine. Once they leave, it'll be my turn to claim the stage and the imagination of its fans. If I could, I'd always bring the people grand fantastical plays.


	2. Brief Exchange

**AN: Song is "Into the West" by Annie Lennox**

* * *

"Madame!" Called the falsetto voice of one of the owners, the deathly thin one.

I cringed while sitting upon my heels when he called me so. I know that for professional business, women were called 'Madame' whether they were married or not and I, surely, am not. The king wouldn't allow any one, both male and female, to get intimately close to me. In reply, I look up from the costume I was taking in. Apparently, the man who is to wear the costume lost a considerable amount of weight, claiming that he swore goblins were keeping him from being sane. I've been planning to do something about that.

"Madame Williams, I'm pleased that you've made yourself comfortable already within the walls of this lovely building. My business partner and I adore having your group here. They seem to be, by far, the most well-behaved and sensible set of Americans I've come across."

I inwardly smile. It wasn't often when her groups' etiquette was praised. "Thank you, Monsieur. I trust that not many have heard such a compliment."

The twig of a man halfheartedly laughs. "Ah, yes. Originally, I came to ask if that you simply keep your troupe and yourself in the designated lit areas of theater for everyone's safety." I noticed, while still working on the costume, that the man is wringing his hands.

I pause my nimble fingers' work and place them in my lap. "May I ask why and why you're nervous?"

The man shakes himself, erasing all sense of anxiety. "There are still part of the theater being renovated and I'd hate for someone to get hurt. Several of my own workers have already been knocked out by falling paint cans and almost crushed by wobbly scaffolds." He lightly laughs. "It's quite comical when they explain what happened, but the funniness stops there. I don't want anymore people harmed."

At the last moment, I caught the flicker of movement of his eyes signifying that he's lying about the accidents. He truly doesn't want anyone hurt, but the renovations is a cover-up to get me to become bound by more inane rules. I almost glared at the bone-thin man. Almost. I flash a stage smile instead. "Thank you for caring so, Monsieur. I'll make sure to keep everyone in check."

He carefully nods. "Right... well... off I go. Should you need anything..."

"I'll call. You can leave now, much work to be done." I waved him off while I pick up my needle and thread again. I watch him give a slight bow and quickly leave.

Stay in these areas only? Highly unlikely. My troupe is actually scared of this place. They could feel something odd the moment they settled in. They wouldn't be a problem wandering the halls. The problem would be me. Curiosity had always and will always be my downfall. I finished the last bit of hemming and fixed the costume upon the mannequin, making sure that everything was in place. I wasn't going to stay in this room any longer.

-Stay, queenie- A myriad of small voices warn. -Danger. Kingy not be happy.-

"I could care less. Your king knows that." I answer calmly, speaking to the perfumed air since they could be anywhere. "You need to stop tormenting my troupe members. They need their rest and nutrition. Leave them be." I whisk out of the room, knowing that they wouldn't answer back.

The taste of the air in the halls are bitter on my tongue as it weighed down upon my thick working clothes. Feeling quite warm in the durable calf-length tan skirt and cream poet's blouse, I pull my hair back into a loose bun. Many tendrils, though, resisted the bind and draped themselves around my shoulders and neck. I don't care though. I'm alone for now and could risk looking less than perfect.

The area right outside of the costume room was the mess area for all props and sets sitting under the stage. Remaining pieces of former backdrops and forgotten hand props littered the area, but it's homely in a sad way. I had passed by the orchestra pit doors, seeing that it hadn't been entirely fixed yet and reeked of a dreadful aura. Shaking the feeling that something horrible had happened to this place, I flee to the more grandeur halls above and away from the stage.

I leap up several flight of stairs and find myself near seating boxes. As an actress, I could never see any of my plays from the audience much less a box. As a director/playwright, I had to remain backstage to keep the show running. If only... if only I could for once see my play from afar, to see what exactly captures the people's hearts. There were several doors, each one was very ornate and beautiful. I open an interestingly different set of doors. They had a slightly different aura than the others but visually looked the same as the others. I step past the curtains to reveal the bare stage below my feet. I could now see why only the rich could sit here. One could see everything, even into the side wings of backstage.

I relax in the only chair in the box to listen to the silence of the auditorium. It's late at night on the first day of coming here and most everyone retired to bed early due to jet lag. As far as I know, it was the skinny owner and me who are still awake. The silence eventually got to me when I could feel someone watching me again, I abruptly stand up and turned to leave, only to find that the door is locked when it wasn't moments ago. My throat tightened in anger.

I have a feeling that the king is trying to get back at me for not listening to his goblins. Such small actions of revenge were common in this little life I lead. I calmly walk back into the box to look for a way down. There's a column just to my left that led right between aisles. I steeled my courage and pulled myself on the half wall, delicately balancing my silk slippers on the cool smooth marble. I imagine the Bog of Stench bubbling under my feet, then, thinking about the small foot way I once traveled upon to get to the other side. Without another moment lost, I jump on the column, but I started sliding too quickly. A yelp unlocked my throat when I couldn't get a grip of the smooth stone. Suddenly, I fell and landed harshly upon the carpeted ground.

The dark room got darker as I try to lift my head from my arms. My ribs and hips are screaming in pain. I look back at the empty and high-up box and groaned before letting my head fall back unto my arm. With every other breath, the pain ebbed and I'm able to stand to make my way to the stage. I remember several doors leading back to the underside of the building. As soon as I get there, I'm going to crash in the costume room until morning.

Carefully, I clamber onto the clean stage and look into the empty theater chairs. I quietly sigh, hearing a soft echo in reply. I lift my head with a smile and decided to end the silence, just to entertain myself before I turn in for the night.

"Hope fades... into the world of night. Through shadows falling, out of memory and time. Don't say, 'We've come now to the end.'" I didn't notice my tears until they reached my lips. The sudden saltiness shocks my tongue only for a breath's moment. "White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. And you'll be here in my arms... just sleeping."

My echoed voice rings throughout the large room. I grin even as the tears paint my face. "What do you see... on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea... a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home." I almost didn't hear a sad voice, different from my own. Almost. I continued, though, giving my voice a smaller quality so that I could hear the other person better. "And all will turn... to silver glass. A light on the water. Grey ships pass... into the West."

I listened as the last echo fades away, searching for the other person who listened to me. Like a deer who caught the scent of the hunters, my eyes look for the intruder. On trembling legs, the doe stands, frozen. When all seemed clear, I turn to make my way to the lower levels of the stage when I hear a single sound. A clap, I first thought. Then it sounded again... and again. I turn back to the audience's seats to see the vast and dark emptiness devoid of all life. My breath catches at the thought that I might have gone around the bend, finally breaking past the point.

"Darling performance earlier today, mademoiselle." A dark voice melts the silence. I didn't say anything but instead tried to find the speaker among the chairs. "And this night. You have a gift, but it's a shame that it's going to waste."

"Waste?" I couldn't hold back my sharp tongue not my anger at being intruded upon. "It's very hard nowadays to become part of a decent musical, thank you!" I still couldn't see the speaker, but the voice sounded too familiar. "Goblin King?"

In the upper corner of my eye, I caught movement. In the box I just left is a dark figure, hidden in the shadows. "My dear, no one is here but you and me."

I feel a blush slither up my neck and cheeks. "If you're not who I thought you were, who are you?" The pain from falling is getting back to me, leaving me horribly breathless as if I ran past my limits.

"Forgive me, I'm not used to the fierce curiosity of modern women." The smooth voice sends shivers down my back. "I am only a demon disguised as an angel."

I warmly smirk at the figure despite my loss of breath. "That's the exact description of the being who I thought you were. I'm afraid that I still think you're the Goblin King."

"Then let this help you." The figure moved into the soft light revealing a white half face set upon an image of a man in black fabric blending perfectly with the dark.

Suddenly, I completely lose my breath and fall unrelentingly hard unto the stage. In my head, I'm so very thankful that it wasn't the king trying to exact his childish revenge upon me again, but I also think that I could still be in danger. No one wears a mask without trying to hide something. My thoughts escape to the once sweet memory of the peach dream and how the king first hid himself with a demonic mask. No, nothing good comes from a man wearing a mask. I'm able to pull my legs under myself and lean on my elbows, but just moving a little bit sparks a wave of pain throughout my ribs and hip that took the fall. I can't even speak if I wanted to.

"Are you well?" The man speaks. I look back at the box only to see that he vanished like a ghost in the morning light. A light touch to my shoulder answered my sudden volley of inquiries. The warmth I feel from him was kind and caring, but hurt, very hurt. A very dangerous combination. Tasting this, I try my best to get away from his hand. I couldn't see him as he was behind me, but I could feel the sudden change in his controlled emotions. "You are afraid. I see that they have told you about me. About what I've done."

I heard the straining creaking of something being pulled or twisted behind me as the smell of water and roses kissed my nose. A rope suddenly appears in front of my vision. It was expertly wound into the clamp of death for those destined to die at the gallows. I feel my breath hitch and my heart race, thinking that I'm going to die. His hand rested upon my shoulder again, his warmth dangerous as I expected.

"This is going to be their fate." He says, bouncing the noose in front of me. "I warned them not to be so flippant about any information given so freely. They all seem the same, the owners of this house, my house. They've tried to cheat me before and now in this time, they're trying to gather willing informants to what? Lure me out so that they may finally be rid of me?" I remain silent only to catch my breath, but I believe he took my silence for a soundless confession when I yelp under his firm fingers tightening around my shoulder. "Answer me." He hisses.

"They never told me anything." I hiss back, turning my head so that I would finally meet the intruder. His eyes are shadowed, but in the dim light, I swear that they are golden like a cat's eyes in the pale moonlight. A few locks of his short raven black hair falls to one side of his healthy face, the other side hidden under the white mask I first saw in the box. The rose aroma must have come from the single rose pinned upon his lapel. The anger on his face, though, rips me from studying him any further.

"Then why did you cower if you do not know me?"

I quietly gasp, just to regain much needed breath. "I could feel you. When I was much younger, I went through a... a task that changed me. I could feel, even taste beings. You, I felt, are benevolent and a protector, but I tasted the bitterness of an infliction deep in your soul." I pause, attempting to ignore the blinding pain. "You're a dangerous man, if I can call you that."

I watch his jaw set as his shoulders stiffened. "And what would you call me if you could."

I think about how I could sense him, but not see him earlier today, how similar it was to earth-bound psyches. I thought about how he was in the box only moments before I fell yet suddenly appear at my side like it was nothing. I look at him with a slight grin. "I'd call you a ghost."

He smiles back. My heart leaps for joy. He smiled! He buried his hurt, his dangerous side of him, just to smile back. Oh, how I could watch him smile every waking moment of my time. It's nothing like the demanding smirk of the king. I lift one of my hands to his upon my shoulder and feel that his skin is smooth and warm, friendly even. The rope in his other hand is tucked away in his dark suit as he allowed my touch.

"Mademoiselle, I do apologize for my behavior. I've been petulant as of late. I've yet to get used to this new era and manners of every person." His now empty hand wraps around my waist to pull me to my feet, helping me walk to the side of the very dark stage. "Either way, it's still no excuse to force a lady like yourself to remain upon the floor when she needs to be cared for. It was very zany to attempt an escape from box five if one does not know where the secrets lay."

I'd scoff but outright moving left my lungs as an empty trap. Although, I am very stubborn. "It wasn't as if I was left a choice. Having a door locked on me isn't exactly a nice thing to do. I just thought that it was the man who's after me who locked the door. He's nearly always trying to catch me in a place where he can attempt a claim upon me. I _had_ to escape. Had I know that it was you, I probably would have stayed put."

A slight chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Mademoiselle, I don't believe that a strong-willed woman would ever let such a man treat her as such."

"Unless the man isn't just a man." I mutter under what's left of my air.

"But..." The ghost continues. "That lock wasn't my move." I quickly face the dark man with wide eyes. "I didn't come until I heard a scuff of someone sliding. The moment I arrived, you have already started singing. I, myself, checked on the door. Now that you explained to me your situation, I know now that if you stayed, you surely would have been overtaken." He stops walking and pulls me in front of him. "You must be careful in this place. If this man who is chasing after you isn't a man at all, my house will easily become your tomb."

I would have answered, but his golden eyes caught mine and I didn't feel worried that the king was after me the entire time. Suddenly, I simply wanted to curl up in this man's arms and stay there, knowing that I'd be safe and warm unlike the king's. I admit that I wanted to be in his arms, too, but I felt as if I'd be a mere possession. Safe, yes, but not warm, not cared for. I feel my heart flip when I realize that I have been staring. I train my eyes to the side as I feel a blush creep up.

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..." I stutter. I never stutter.

"It's very well, mademoiselle. It's happened many times before." He says so sadly.

"No, I mean..." I feel my eyes suddenly reveal my wants to him.

Another smile graces his lips, understanding what I meant. "I can see why your suitor ails you so. It's a shame that he makes the wrong moves." His hand touches the warming flesh of my cheek. "I'm afraid to say that you are in a game of chess with three players, you being one of the three."

"What are you saying?" I whisper as my lack of breath renders me lightheaded and dizzy. "The Goblin King has always been playing against me..." My thoughts trail off when I fully process what he said. "Oh, my... it's not f..." If I could, I would have stayed awake long enough to know what happened after I passed out.


	3. Burning Rose

The smell of roses and the cold water roused me from my slumber. I lift my head from my bed of fabric only to realize that I must have fallen asleep before I finished fixing the costume. Sitting up, my hands run along the different textures of the fabric underneath my waking body. As I stifle a yawn, my fingers brush along something too brittle and coarse to be cloth.

There it sat, an aged slip of parchment paper with elegant text upon its delicate face. Nestled on top of the paper is a vibrant red rose. The very rose from someone's lapel. An enthusiastic whirlwind of memory of last night rushed around my mind. The soundless whisper of my attraction towards the dark man is remembered. A lovers touch where he held me all but forgotten. How could I forget? Last night was adventurous as well as sweet despite my terrible fall.

My fall! A flurry of hands check my ribs and hip only to find that the pain is long gone and I could breath with ease once more. The ghost must have brought me here and cared for me whilst I slept. A blushing warmth grew upon my chest and cheeks with the thought of such a man caring so much for someone he barely knew. Curiosity renewed, my fingers arched over the rose, almost afraid to touch it. As far I knew, the king could have seen last night after he locked me in the box and wanted to trap me in the Underground by placing magic upon the rise.

I slowly take my fingers from the air above the rose to grip the paper beneath it. An occasional ink blot decorated the page letting me know that he wrote this in a flourished hurry. The words themselves were beautifully scripted letters and words with grand curlicues and slight left slant. A grin set itself on my lips. He's left-handed like many famous artists, like myself. The paper read: Mademoiselle, I enjoyed meeting with you and look forward to find more moments to talk with you. Should you find a breath to yourself, simply sing and I shall be with you. Your Ghost. After reading those few lines, I didn't feel any fear of the rose. I went to grab it, though, when a white gloved hand snatched it from the pile of fabric.

"You seem to have forgotten my power, my dear." The silky voice I loathed so lingered in the room.

I stared at the spot where the rose once slept. "I haven't forgotten, Goblin King. You suffice by showing me everyday, though I haven't seen you in a while. Too busy with your wish-granting drug-dreaming scheme for your Runners to worry about physically stalking me?"

A pregnant silence stole the warmth from my body. "I'll be asking you not to continue, love. I'm never too busy for you." I look at his light clothing colors. So he's going for the innocent approach this time. "You haven't seen me because you've been doing so well, separating yourself from the insufferable mortals without my help. Except last night, my dear." He twirls the rose between his slender fingers.

"Nothing much happened last night." I quickly say, wanting my sweet flower in my own hands. "I just met someone who is human, but solitude, like myself."

"My dearing, you're never alone." The king knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his empty hand. "I'm always with you."

I pull away and fling myself to the other side of the now cold room, a strong bout of anger keeping me warm for the moment. "You weren't there when I fell. I didn't see you help me when I was in obvious pain. My ghost was there instead." I paced from my safe distance, fully knowing that any distance wasn't safe. "I fell because you decided to pull a low unforgivably childish act of locking the door on me. It's your fault I fell and you weren't there to fix your mistake." My hands shake with the remnants of fury. It's been a long time since I've yelled at him, ranting my feelings at him. "He was there and he helped fix your mistake. If you 'love' me so, why are you letting yourself be replaced by my Ghost?"

"Your Ghost?" His chocolate brown and eclipse blue eyes bore holes into my own olive green eyes as he straightens himself to give power into the room. "Your Ghost! I'm the one who haunts your every dream and can only be felt by those who have the gift as you do. Yet he is your Ghost? How can you compare a mortal to a Fae?"

I stand in front of the inhumanly strong being, daring him with my set face to try anything. "I compare, not by strength of the being, but by who he is, who he aims to be. I've not known him for long and he already has my respect because I could feel that he wants to be a famous artist and loving husband." I catch the rose before it could touch the ground after the king released the flower in angry shock. "You, on the other hand, depend sorely upon magic and have never been through true hardships as we mortals have. Your ego has proven that. I compare because I care."

I lift the ruby flower to my face to taken in its sweet innocence as the very air around the magical being grew dark. I'm not afraid, though. He can't touch me with his magic for I've said the right words years ago. But words don't stop him from being physical. The king loves to abuse the pure strength he has on me.

Just like now. One blink and I'm standing a good distance from him, wary of his darkening mood. In the next, I'm caught under his boots on top of the fabric bed. His eyes glow under the slight shadow of his layered sunlight hair. A sneer twists his thin pale lips flashing his slightly jagged teeth. Musky spice of magic tickled my senses, filling me with a cold power that always seduces me. I know that every time I feel this power, I'm being changed. Slowly and bit by bit, he's changing me. I do not age as fast as the untouched mortals. I cannot get easily sick nor harmed. He knows this as he looks down upon me.

"You wound me, love. I've told you before what a Fae must go through on a daily basis. Must we have this argument again?" He lifts his boot from my chest only to trap me between his arms and legs. His white feathery cloak surrounded us and covered a good portion of the fabric pile. "There is more to magic than using it and more to the Fae than shallowness, vanity, and deceit." The king nuzzled his face into my neck, breathing upon the one mark that I've never been able to get rid of. "You should know that, dearing. You've known me long enough. Don't you remember that night when I was there for you when no one else was?" He lifts his head to look at my bewildered expression. "I care for you, Sarah."

How could I not forget that night? Every solitary moment, every heated dream, all of my waking thoughts thinks of that night. My fingers brush along the mark, warm from his breath. I had called to him one night some time after my run and let my guard down. It was heavenly, that night, but the next morning was when I realized what I had done. He now had a claim over me and I couldn't break it unless I died.

"I can't feel your care, then. All I feel is your anger and want. You have no kind side for me to know. That part of your soul is missing. You can't even get heartaches like regular Fae can and for that, I hate you." My breath was shaky as I tried to control my body's want. He was purposefully trying to distract me with his own want. "I won't say the words you want me to say, though. They might be true, but how could I tell you when my words roll off your heart like water to a lily-pad."

A light chuckle from the light man filled the dark room. Instead of answering, he places several kisses upon my chin and cheeks, both warm with a blush. His willowy arms went from being prison bars to a lover's embrace as his buttery soft gloves slides along my slightly sore rib-cage and hip. As he touched me, the pain was leaving; he's healing me. I wanted to push him off for using that particular spell just so he could touch me, but all thought left when he lays a kiss upon my pale red lips. My want took over my body when I realize that he's gone.

I sit up quickly to see that the room was properly lit as it was before he came, but the note was crushed to pieces and my rose stands in a vase, burning from the tips of the petals. The aroma was wonderful as it filled the room, but I was angry that he dared to get rid of the gift. He left me with a raging amount of want yet all I feel like doing is cry. I lay down on the fabric to curl up into the warmth of the cloth and let the tears flow. They ran as long as the flower burned. I cried until there was naught but ashes at the bottom of the vase.

I must have fallen asleep. Behind closed eyes, I saw the Goblin King, but his hair was different colors. The roots were black as night while the tips were his usual blond. In between, the color transitioned from the black to the near-white. The airy locks led to his eyes. They were the same until he lowered his chin. A shadow covered his eyes, creating a golden glow. That's when I noticed that his stance wasn't as demanding as I know it to be as if he finally learned humility and hurt. This is how someone of great power should act. This is a person I could love.

"Miss Sarah!" A high voice pierced through my dream. I groggily open my eyes to see one of my female actors on her knees with a look of concern etched upon her heart-shaped face. "Miss Sarah, are you okay?"

I sit up, glad that the king had taken the pain away. "I'm perfectly fine, Lisa. I just worked late last night. Had to take in Alex's costume."

The girl looks sad then. "I'm worried about him."

I grin, knowing that her brother would be fine once I talk to the goblins again. "Don't fret. He'll come round. Believe you me."

"I hope so, Miss Sarah. I can't imagine going on stage without him being my anchor." Her eyes glitter with growing tears. "He's the only family I have left outside of the troupe." She sniffles when she seems to remember something. "Oh, I came by to let you know that you've been summoned. Apparently, the owners of this place want to introduce you to the curious royals and fabulously wealthy."

With a large intake of breath, I heavily sigh. I was hoping to avoid meeting such people. Their ignorant arrogance reminds me too much of the king. I glance over at Lisa and flash a loving grin. "I'll be up. Is everyone else up?" She nodded. "All of them practicing the ending?" She froze, face contorted with confusion. I sigh yet again. "Everyone needs to work on that ending. It's our weak link."

"Right." Lisa chirps, standing on her small feet swiftly. "I'll go tell them." She heads for the door when she pauses and looks back at me. "Take care, will you? I don't want to worry about you, too." I grimly nod as she dashes away to the cast.

To meet with royalty and the wealthy, one must look up to date with their fashion and act like them if one wants the rich to simply like them. I've never been liked. I've been loved and adored because I dress as I normally would and present myself, not a facade. Most of my normal clothes are back at the hotel, though, and the other piece of clothing I brought with me was an elegant dress for a minor character in my play. The dress isn't in my size either. Nearly desperate, I look around the costume room for something suitable.

There were dusty racks teeming with once watery fabric and firm colors along the walls of the room. I search through the layers of moth eaten suits and dresses hoping to find something decent among the age-old clothes. I push some racks behind me, revealing more clothes that have gone through a worse fate than the ones I just frisked through. A stage up from tattered rags, I still sift though the fabrics, hoping that something could be salvaged.

My fingers felt every single silky surface, all the sequins sewn in place, and smooth pleats. A near ancient smell of perfume mingled with the musty scent of time tickles my nose. I can even taste the once flowery aroma. Just looking through all of these forgotten clothes and faded colors saddened me. I rush my fingers along the sleeves of the old costumes, when I feel something out of place. It's a plastic cover protecting a costume from the harsh beating of time and the hunger from animals or bugs. It's been hiding from me, but no longer.

With the utmost respect, I pull the costume from the rack and bring it to the work tables where Alex's costume currently sits next to. My hands quiver in anticipation while I carefully dodge the racks I've moved and the piles of fabric strewn about the organized mess of the room. It wasn't often when I find a surprise that wasn't a magical trap or a drugged fruit. I grin at the memories of such sweet traps. It has become more of a joke between the king and me than a trap or sorts. It's something we can laugh at when he's not being the egotistical Fae that he is.

I lay the plastic covered costume upon the numerous sewing needles and spools of colorful thread, hoping that I've wasted time for something worth it. I hold my breath as I begin to pull the cover off of the costume. So far, the bottom of the dress is as black as snow is white. The very fabric is silk carefully lined with cashmere. I'd move the fabric and the black would seem almost like oil, catching the colors of the light unseen by unaided mortal eyes. I pull on the plastic even more to expose the fading color of the dress. Effortlessly, the creator of the dress blended the colors from the most ebony of shadows to a stone gray adding in a detail of rune-like curves within the grain of the fabric. The simplicity of the detail lead my eyes upward into the bodice of the dress that I finally uncover.

The pure white lace outlined the corset-like top that holds the color of clean cotton. The boning that shaped the bodice is nearly invisible underneath the pattern of the lace. Pinned to the hanger are two loose sleeves meant to bind on one's arm just above the elbow and hang loose as if they are actually sleeves. Like the dress, the color of the sleeves faded into black from the bind down to the hem. To think that this is a costume is a sore mistake. The fabric and design of this dress is much too delicate to play a part on stage.

Someone must have made this for one of the actresses of the opera house before it got destroyed, but the question is who. Who had this budget and creativity to create such a beautiful gown and who just left it here among the dying costumes? Either way, it's a miracle that I found anything at all. The gown is a bit much for my taste, but it's better than my work clothes. I finger the lace before I decided that I must not waste anymore time thinking.

Out of habit, I cover the mirrors in the room before I peel off my clothes and gently wipe myself down with a wash basin. The owners wanted to keep the house to keep much of its history and quirky traits like keeping a bowl full of water in the workrooms. I'm thankful for their choice at the moment. Once my skin is clean and dry, I carefully slip the dress off of the hanger and step into it. With some difficulty, I'm able to fasten the dress to my form and attach the sleeves to my arms.

I want to see how I look, but I didn't want to risk taking up any more time. If I were to see myself, I'd want to fix my hair or nit-pick at everything little detail. I physically shake my head, letting my hair fall out of its loose hold, and begin hoping that nothing goes wrong with this meeting. Of course, one could only hope.

Without another wasted moment, I swiftly rush out of the room with my bare feet kissing the cool floor of the house. A weight suddenly set itself upon my chest. Something is going to go wrong. I pause in the adorned hallways of the ground floor, lightly panting. I don't feel this way unless it's a tragic experience. Something is going to happen, something terribly great. If I could, I'd choose not to go to the meeting at all for that seems to fuel my sinking feeling.


	4. The Marquis

The difference of the dark halls underneath the stage and the room in which I stand in now is vast. Where there was a lack of any finery in the halls, it was made up for as elegant metal curlicues and expensive incense fancied the overall atmosphere. Red velvet lounges occupied by the fabulously rich and powerful whispered in a great grandeur. The voices of the house owners and exotic refined accents carried to my quiet position by the double doors. I'm waiting to be presented properly.

The bone-thin owner elbowed his squat partner who was basically drooling at the elegance of the woman he was just talking to. With a quick draw of his kerchief, the rotund man wiped at his forehead and waddled to my waiting form. Such a comical man.

"M'lords et m'ladies, je voudrais presénter le dramaturge estimé Williams." The squat man held his white gloved hand out to me. I placed my bare hand upon his, feeling the worn cloth at my fingertips as he began to guide me to the sitting folk. When I'm close enough to them, I slightly curtsy and remain standing. Sitting among these people without being asked is highly improper.

"So, Madame Williams, you look quite young to be a successful playwright. What pray tell, went through your mind when you created your play?" A beautiful blonde haired woman said in her heavy French accent.

"Many things I have thought of, madame. My trials and tests of life, the happy memories I once had, hopes and dreams of all I've come across. All very real and very powerful since I'm standing before you with my play to be performed in the grand stage." I reply almost too curtly.

"Oh, I see. Dreams can truly be a powerful thing to those who can properly capture them." Replied the elegant woman. The rest of the group nodded in lively agreement.

I wanted to add to her statement when the doors behind me flew open to reveal another gentleman appearing to be 'fashionably' late and didn't seem guilty for a breath's moment. The lady I was speaking to held out her hand. I took it and knelt beside her, her light breath brushed upon my neck as she whispered.

"That, dear Williams, is a marquis of something very important. You see, ever since the French Revolution any sense of noble titles were abolished, but that man..." She eyes flickered to the wild-haired man as he conversed with the house owners. "That man is part of the secret service of our beloved president and the ones before him. In fact, if my memory serves me, he _leads_ the service, but doesn't let anyone know that he does for safety reasons, though I can't see why. He looks as if he could protect the president from anything with his own body and walk the next day."

"If he doesn't want anyone to know of his real role, why is it that you know?" I ask.

"Well, some time ago, when he first started, he was practically bragging about it, but nine years ago, he suddenly wanted secrecy about his position. Something must have happened and he won't tell anyone about it. Ever since then, he seemed to be searching for something or someone. I believe that someone had threatened him and he's trying to find them before the person strikes first." I see the ignorant belief in the woman's eyes and practically jump to my feet.

"Well, thank you the information. I'll make sure not to make him angry with me." I quickly say before giving the lady a slight curtsy and turn to leave when a smooth voice to the left of me speaks up.

"Leaving already? I just arrived, Madame Williams."

With a mental groan, I fix a small smile and face the self-titled marquis only to take a step back in fear. The man seems similar to the man in my dream from this morning. Too similar, but I can't tear my eyes from the loosely styled hair and the gold- and silver-like eyes. What did the lady say? Nine years ago, this man changed. Nine years ago, I had run the Labyrinth. It suddenly seemed fitting that the Goblin King could change everyone's memory to believe that he has been here for years and present himself as the man from my dream just to spite me. My faux smile fades as I glare at the man before me.

"I do apologize, but I must be going. I just remembered that my troupe _must_ practice before opening night." I turn to everyone else. "I am dearly sore that I haven't been able to stay for more than a few minutes, though work must be done before pleasure." I give a respectful nod to the people in the room then fly out and away from the heavy room. I hear them talking about me when I leave although I don't care what they say at the moment. I needed to leave.

I pause to see that I've led myself to the double staircases in the main lobby without fully knowing. Tired of being confused, I harshly sit on one of the steps and attempt to think about all that's happened in the past two days. Has the king really gone so low as to meddle with the humans' minds just to walk among them and see me? I hold my breath when I come to a realization that I didn't consider myself among the humans for a moment. I'm honestly changing and I can't do anything about it. Stifling a blood-curdling scream, I bite my lip and dig my nails into the palm of my hands, breaking through the skin layer by layer until the insane pressure to shriek idles for the present moment. I begin to taste the tang of iron and bitterness of salt when I release my lip and wipe away the blood and tears.

Being in this much emotional pain, I remember what my mother used to sing to me before she left to chase after her dream of acting. Whenever I was having trouble sleeping or if I couldn't understand something, she would sing a song that always calmed my soul, no matter how pulled it was. I start humming the light introduction and listen to the words coming to mind.

'When your good-nights have been said and you are lying in bed, with the covers pulled up tight. And though you're counting for sheep, you get the feeling that sleep is gonna stay away tonight. That's when you hear it coming. That's when you hear the humming of the Midnight Train... here again. Can't explain that Midnight...'

"Feeling lonely, Madame Williams?" A silky voice came from the shadows.

"No, monsieur. I just needed a breath to myself. I shouldn't have come when there is still so much to do before noon." I say to the very man I was trying to run away from.

"Oh." He simply says as he walks to the stairs where I am and folds his hands behind his back, gently rocking his weight between his heels and toes. "I cannot help but feel that you left because of me. I hope that I did not frighten you for my late arrival."

I softly sigh looking up at him, not sure whether this is the King anymore. "I wasn't scared of you. I thought that you were someone else. You look very similar to him and I was just not feeling up to dealing with him again today."

"You met with him this morning?" His metallic colored eyes bore into mine. "He didn't harm you, did he?"

I snap my focus to my feet. "I only wish that I could say no, but I'm not one to wish for things that is impossible anymore. None of my wishes when I was younger made a difference to my life and when one wish did come true, it was one I didn't really mean." I glance at the marquis with softened eyes. "There's not anything even you could do to help me, monsieur. This parasite of mine is one that will never go away until I bend to his wills, which won't be for a long time from now."

"I was not going to offer aid." He warmly grinned. "I believe that you are a strong young woman, well worth everything that you've created by yourself and can handle a pest such as your little goblin."

My brows furrow with confusion once again. "Excuse me, but what did you just say?"

"What? That the man who bothers you is but a little goblin, one of evil spirit?" I watch his face for any clue of realization of what he just said, but I see no flicker of what I'm looking for. He truly does not know of the King. I relax and lean back against the steps.

"That's what I thought you said. Anyway, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in the room with the other guests?"

"The only reason that they're here was to see you, madame, but you had other things to do. I came to see if I could convince you to come back and have a nice chat with us. I swear that we do not bite... hard." He smirked quite playfully for a well-aged man.

I tilt my head to look at the man from a different angle. "I've heard that expression before, monsieur."

"Ah, well... I should expect so from an American."

I huff at his comment as I slip to my feet, standing erect in the presence of a noble man. "I may be American, but I have the heart of the world."

His left hand falls to his side while his right lifted before me. I place my left hand in his offering hand when he slightly bows and lays a soft kiss upon my bare hand. "That was beautiful, madame Williams. Just as you are beautiful."

Feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks, I pull my hand out of his grasp and wrap myself with my arms. "I thank you for the comment, monsieur, however unnecessary that it is."

"Madame! You wound me as well as the others. I'm sure that you could spend a few minutes with us." He dramatically walked around me, lightly touching my upper arms. "It will relieve this stress you have and might even help you lose some of your confusion. Nothing like the gabble of the French to see things differently, don't you agree?"

Feeling unnerved by his touch, I slide out and away from him. I wanted to go back to fixing the costumes and direct my troupe yet I also wanted to create a better impression to the rich for the sole reason that their voices are listened to which could very much lead to more support to my play and troupe. I must do what needs to be done. I'll just work harder and faster on the clothes before anything else happens. With a smile I speak to the waiting man.

"I will be honored if you escort me back to the lounging room."

"C'est parfait, madame! Please..." He motions in the direction of the room. "I will be just a moment more here." I lower my head and began to stride around the corner when I heard the first few words of the marquis speaking without his French accent. "It's only a matter of time now, 'monsieur.'" I pushed myself against the wall in the darkness of the hallways to eavesdrop. "Everything that is yours will be gone and become a part of a greater domain. As of now, you've already lost this millennial long game between us because _you_ have left alone your most valuable asset. You should have been more careful when luring in the meek and stubborn."

A light voice replies, but other voices of the goblins appear around me. "Lady not safe. Danger comes. This place had wards. Nasty, hateful wards. We's cannot help all the time, queenie. Only kingy now." I try to shush them so that I may listen to the marquis and his guest, but a small, bug-eyes goblin with gloves on his ears, hands, and feet tugs on the black part of my sleeve. It had been so long since I've actually seen the goblins. I kneel down and hug the tiny creature when he whispers something. "Kingy torn in two, queenie. His soul split. Queenie met both of him now. Help the kingy before it too late." I lean back to look at the goblin with bewildered eyes, but all of the goblins had disappeared and I was missing my right sleeve. A soft whisper meets my ears. "I return it soon. You safe now."

My question died in my chest when I heard the silky voice of the marquis flare up behind me, hinting at anger and distrust. "What are you still doing here?" His metallic eyes sparked with an inner flame that either wasn't there before or was expertly buried. Feeling the power of his anger told me that I _was_ in danger and could possibly not make it out alive. I nervously rub the bare skin of my arms, trying to think of a way out of this messy situation. I begin to stutter because the completely different aura from this man threw my mind all out of sorts. At first, I perceived that he was at least a kindred soul who had honor and loyalty, but now... I feel an age old anger and deep dark hate clouding the hall. I was beginning to feel his icy demeanor and it was cold, short of being arctic. I bring my hands to my upper arms in attempt to warm myself, when I realize the skin of my right arm. I straighten myself with my head held high and my right arm revealing itself to the secretly dark man.

"I'm missing my sleeve, monsieur, as I hope you can see." I wriggle my fingers before watching his face fall to a more neutral expression. "I would not be properly dressed to return unless I find it." The air slowly lifted from my person. I _have_ to thank that little goblin.

"I beg you pardon, madame. My job with keeping my president safe and general security of this country leaves my... how you say... edges quite rough to social standards."

"I wouldn't have guessed." I say, trying to stay on his good side. I'm so used to talking this way to my step-mother after I ran through the Underground. Even when I became more reasonable and responsible, Karen still annoyed me with unneeded motherly actions and reactions. As a result of my being an unnoticeable smart-ass with her for so long, I've also been able to hide my true emotions around annoying or angry people and this man is both.

"I will help you search for your sleeve, if it would please you." He asked very lightly as if nothing had happened.

I politely bow my head, showing a slight submission as his suspicious ego wouldn't help but drop at the sight of a woman weaker than he. "If you'd like, but you could also go back and break the news to the others that if I can't find my sleeve, I'll speak with them at a later time before the performance days of the play." Giving him a choice of either doing a menial task or escaping where he can woo the other women. I could see in his eyes that it was a battle not worth fighting over.

"I'll leave you to it, then, madame, but I shall be disheartened should you not find your sleeve." He bowed, lightly grasping my left hand in his right. "I hope to see you very soon." A light kiss upon my bare skin and I felt as if I wanted to amputate my arm before it was too late to stop the surge of discomfort coursing through my veins. I drowned my frown, giving the marquis a seemingly blushing grin until he turned past the corner and his footsteps lost in the echos of the vast hallways.

I didn't move for a while, taking in the silence of the lobby to check and double-check that I'm alone. With no other presence filling the nearby halls, I relax my rigid spine and open my lungs to the sweetened air. The marquis may not be the King, but he still means trouble. He was talking to someone and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know, though I couldn't help but feel that it involved the Underground and me. Remembering something, I scan over the front doors and windows. Nasty wards upon this place preventing the goblins to stay? My instincts, however hay-wired, are warning me.

'Come try to take me away... But bring me back before day light and fill the time between.' I turn to walk back to the costume room. Might as well work my thoughts and the time away. 'Take me everywhere but don't abandon me there... Just want to say I've been...' Of all the places I've been, it's France that's going odd on me. I want to see home once more before anything could happen to me. Oh, home... 'I believe in you completely, though I may be dreaming sweetly...' I'd give almost anything to peacefully sleep. It's been years since I have. It's always seemed to be one thing after another. Finishing high school, going to a university, getting famous, and moving wherever my troupe and I are sent.

And now? I have to deal with the King, avoid this shady marquis, and... what of that man? What am I to do about him? He's everything I'd want in a man, but I'm not so sure for a lover. I know that the King has the perfect qualities for a lover, but he still needs to be a good man at least. I violently beat down any thoughts about either of the men clouding my mind. I have a play to put on and nothing else should matter to me. But still... I often wonder if true love really exists. 'Starlight express, starlight express... are you real? Yes, or no? Starlight express, answer me yes... I don't want you to go.'

* * *

**I'm so sorry to the untimely delay in this story, but I hope this makes up for it.  
I just needed to introduce a few more characters before I get started on the good stuff ;)  
Please review. :)**


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